Bit by Bit

Here we are at seven weeks post-surgery. And while I once believed that everything would be back to normal by the six-week point (it's not!), I have nothing to complain about.

I've been able to drive now for three weeks. Got to start drinking beer again (my doctor agreed reluctantly) about two weeks ago. And as of a week ago, my formal movement restrictions have ended. No longer do I have to remember to not to lift my hands above my head, or not to bend over to pick anything up. And I no longer have to roll on my side to get out of bed. Now I spring from the bed and land nimbly on my feet. Well, maybe not. But at least I look less like a turtle trying to roll off of its back now.

I've had blessedly few complications over the past few weeks, but there have been some ups and downs.

At the end of week one I did a follow up visit with the surgical team. They covered everything on their checklist (Mostly that I was upright and breathing, I think.) and bid me goodbye. They referred me back to my internist and the cardiologist from the same practice. I saw the cardiologist first, but he didn't really seem too tuned in to post-surgical care. He knew what was supposed to happen, but I didn't get the sense that he really had much experience with patients like me. Fortunately my internist appears to be quite a cardiologist himself and he really stepped in and took control of my care. I have a long relationship with my internist and we've engaged in some doctor/patient give and take over the years, so I'm comfortable with this arrangement.

In my early post-op visits, they found some arrythmia in my heart. A common occurance, they say. The key is not to let the heart become accustomed to the improper beat. Initially the cardiologist prescribed a drug called amiodarone to regularize the beat. But he described it as "a nasty drug"--nice bedside manner! I actually got the script filled but never took it and thank goodness: the stuff stayed in your system for months and carried possible side effects including lung damage or liver damage, vision loss, taste alterations, etcetera. I dodged taking it by seeing my internist a few days after seeing the cardiologist. He didn't see any arrythmia and decided to monitor me rather than start treatment. In the weeks since, he's never changed course on that.

Another little bump came in the echocardiogram exam. They performed this one week after surgery but then called me back for additional work. Of course when they called, they gave a totally benign excuse for the call back. Then when I got in there, it became clear someone had actually seen something they were worried about--what could have been a problem with my other heart valve. This mitral valve has been perfectly healthy in the past, but according to the cardiologist attending the follow-up test, damage can occur during surgery.

During the follow-up echo, the cardiologist got a bit testy with the technician doing the exam and insisted on seeing the live picture rather than just shots selected by the tech. The live shots removed any concerns about a possible problem. Thus, the whole incident boiled down to an inexperienced technologist reporting something that might have been a problem but wasn’t. This gives an informative glimpse into the workings of medicine—and a great excuse for second opinions!

So, what’s left to complain about at week seven? I still can’t ride a bicycle, for one. That will have to wait at least a couple more weeks and given Chicago weather may really not happen again until next year. Thus my five bikes remain sidelined for now.

The prohibition on bikes gives my sternum more time to heal. Having read horror stories of people who still have problems up to two years after surgery, I don’t want to push this issue. But I have to say that every day now the sternum seems more comfortable. I can lie on my side again and routine reaching and moderate pushing movements are becoming more and more easy by the day.

What I find odd is that the incision itself is still not well healed. I suppose that given the depth and size of it (someone said it is 17 centimeters long) that I shouldn’t have expected it to heal quickly. But nearly since I left the hospital they’ve told me it didn’t need a dressing and many days that’s true. But I am finding there are times when it would be better for my clothes and bedding if I did have it covered. For the time being, I’m favoring dark t-shirts. And waiting. Some more. Impatiently.

But as a sign of real normalcy, at least in my life, I did take my first airplane trip this past weekend. This was one I couldn’t miss: delivering my oldest daughter to college in Olympia, Washington. Soon I’ll be off to Denver for GABF and then other destinations and I guess before I know it, I’ll be healed and riding bikes and all this will be a distant memory.

Won’t that be nice!